


burning in the cold

by brokendrums



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1732649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokendrums/pseuds/brokendrums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall cheers Harry up after the last gig in Manchester. Harry should be on voice rest but rules are made to be broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burning in the cold

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Broken Bells - Holding on for Life. Big love to [ Kelsey ](http://idreamofhim.tumblr.com/) for the quick read through <3
> 
> This (nsfw) [ gif ](https://31.media.tumblr.com/e12d60232bd70e88c02697069e346bdd/tumblr_mza6nyHad61slzarso1_500.gif) has been sitting in my drafts for a long time and I thought it was finally time to work it into something. (Also if anyone recognises the video, hit me up with a link)

“You ok?” Niall asks once the door to the bathroom slips open. There’s a billow of steam and then Harry, shoulders slumped and hair limp around his face in the doorway. 

Harry’s face falls slightly and he looks sort of miserable but he drags his feet across the hotel room before curling onto the sofa beside him. He’s got a big hotel room, a huge bed that’s a mess at the other side of the room and a little living area that sits around the TV and mirror. There’s clothes strewn everywhere but Niall’s found a place to sit down.

“Was thinking of driving up home,” Harry tells him, voice rough and raw. He hitches the towel around his waist higher. “But I can’t be bothered.”

Niall nods, slides his arm across the back of the sofa for Harry to fall into if he wants. He looks at him warily, eyes red and droopy looking. 

“I’ll drive you, if you want,” Niall offers. His car is in London, and he’s pretty sure Harry’s is too but it shouldn’t be too hard to find one for a few hours. He could tuck him into his old childhood bed and let him rest, maybe slide in beside him until he falls asleep. 

Harry’s lips thin out into a small smile before he sucks the bottom one into his mouth. He looks mopey like this and Niall doesn’t like it, misses his cheeky grin. 

“Nah,” he shrugs and then shakes his head, water dripping off the ends of his hair. His voice trails off to a croaky whisper. “Mum’s staying in the hotel somewhere and I don’t want to bother her or Robin. S‘their anniversary.” 

His mouth tugs downwards again and Niall shuffles closer, his elbow behind Harry’s neck now. Harry tips his head back, hair damp against Niall’s skin. He blinks slowly up at the ceiling, bottom lip twisting in his mouth again. 

“Just hate having you all cover for me,” he mutters, head rolling to the side so he can meet Niall’s eyes. Niall stares at him. Takes in the dark circles under his eyes and the flush in his cheeks. 

“We don’t care,” Niall answers honestly but it’s a token gesture. Harry knows they don’t so Niall will let him moan about it if he wants. Harry sighs, rough out his nose before he finally curls into him, nose going straight into the hollow of Niall’s throat. He’s clammy damp when Niall puts his arm around him, hand trailing across his shoulder to grip the back of his bicep but he smells nice, the mint of the complimentary shower gel and cranberry from the fancy conditioner he uses. 

Harry doesn’t speak for a moment, just breathes against Niall’s neck quietly before Niall feels his lips start to move, mouthing silently against his skin. 

Niall grins into the damp crown of his head and tightens his fingers in response. He isn’t surprised, in fact he sort of expected this to happen when he went to get Harry’s room key from Paul. Plan forming half heartedly in the back of his mind as he had showered off the sweat from the show and padded barefoot up to Harry’s room at the end of the hall with a half arsed excuse of bringing him honey and ginger tea. 

“You want me to make you feel better?” Niall asks quietly, wisps of Harry’s hair tickling his lips. He feels Harry’s shoulders tense, like he’s been caught out before he goes lax against him, hand sliding over Niall’s stomach to grip at his other hip. His arm is heavy, keeping him pinned against him but Niall likes it, secure over his hips. 

“Yeah,” Harry says quietly, lips pressing into a proper kiss against Niall’s collarbone. He glances up, eyes gone a bit glittery and the flush has spread across his face now. It’s totally reckless, their doctor would go through them for even considering it but Harry looks so relieved that Niall can’t back out now, not that the thought has been allowed to ignite in the back of his mind.

Niall rubs his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip, letting him lick at the pad of it, just enough to get it wet. He can’t deny how hot it is, heat sparking in the small of his back and making his belly warm as Harry sucks it into his mouth.

“No kissing,” Harry says, laying down the rules. Niall nods, he doesn’t want to get sick anymore than Harry does. He doesn’t think it’s contagious anyway, they’re pressed close enough for that not to matter but he humours him, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip again. It looks red and plump where he’s been biting it and Niall wants to kiss him more than anything now, now that it’s out of bounds. 

“No talking,” Niall barters his own rule and Harry’s face tightens, mouth dropping open. “No sucking,” Niall adds and Harry groans, tongue licking out to catch where Niall’s thumb is still pressed to the corner of his mouth. Niall can’t help but grin though. Even though it probably wouldn’t help his throat, they have a day off tomorrow so that rule is just for fun. “Ah, ah,” Niall says just to fuck with him. “I’ve put you on voice rest, Styles.”

Harry’s mouth drops open again, eyes widening and Niall bends forward, breathes over his mouth before dropping his lips to Harry’s jaw, teeth scraping over the excuse of stubble on his chin. 

Harry goes sort of liquid, melting into the cushions at the back of the sofa. He drags a hand up over Niall’s side, fingers catching on the hem of his t-shirt and they feel warm where they slide over his skin. His other one reaches up to Niall’s cheek, thumb slipping under his chin to cradle his head properly and Niall pauses to take a breath, inhaling musky mint and cranberry. Harry’s hand feels huge against his jaw, fingers stretching up to his ear and thumb rolling around to push at where Niall’s got his mouth latched onto Harry’s neck. He wants to feel them everywhere, clenched around under his thighs and intertwined in his fist. He wants to feel them behind his knee and against his hip and pumping inside him.

He licks at Harry’s thumb, sucks it into his mouth and glances up to meet his gaze. He watches as Harry’s mouth drops open again, tongue wet at the sight. It makes him suck harder, skim his teeth over Harry’s knuckle and lav over his nail. It’s a promise of what’s to come and Niall makes a noise, appreciative from the back of his throat that only makes Harry’s face twist more. 

He knows it’s killing him already, trying to be quiet, mouth opening and shutting as he tries not to speak but it only makes Niall harder, heat shooting down his spine at the thought of Harry fighting against the urge to groan or moan. 

And Niall _can_ moan, so he does, loud and long around Harry’s fingers just to push the fact that Harry can’t. Harry closes his eyes then, one hand skimming down to press against his dick and the fingers of his other hand curl in Niall’s mouth, hook under his tongue and over his teeth before they pull out, dragging on Niall’s bottom lip. Niall licks out after them, trying to keep a taste of Harry’s hot skin on his tongue but Harry pushes his wet fingers into Niall’s hair, wordlessly scratching at the skin behind his ear before subtly pushing his head down. 

Niall grins, mouth turning wicked as he ducks down, following Harry’s lead to suck on his neck again. The flush has grown down here too, hot in the hollow of his throat and spreading out across his chest. Niall follows it with his tongue, licking over hot skin until he can suck on his nipple. 

The angle’s wrong, Harry trying to twist against where Niall’s bent forward so he slides off the sofa, knees hitting the soft, luxury carpet on the floor. Harry sucks in a breath, loud against the backdrop of the otherwise silent room and he pats clumsily against Niall’s head while his other hand drags Niall’s t-shirt up over his back. 

They get tangled for a moment, Harry’s hand slipping into the collar of Niall’s t-shirt as he pulls it over Niall’s head and he finds himself for a brief moment breathing into the hot material of his t-shirt. Everything is white and he can only see the hint of Harry’s shadow through the thin material of his tee. It makes his head swim, intensifies it all for the split second that he’s caught up in it. The heat of Harry’s fingertips on his bare shoulder now and how his heartbeat is roaring in his ears. 

Then it’s whipped off his head and Harry’s sitting at the edge of the sofa, knees splayed so Niall can fit easily in between. The towel is spread haphazardly behind him, caught between where he’s sitting and the cushions but it’s in Niall’s periphery because the rest of him is naked, long and lean and spread out across the green upholstery. 

Harry fists his dick, drags his fingers up the long length of him before rolling at his foreskin. It makes Niall’s mouth water, the sight of him, hard against the heaving muscle of his tummy. He knows it’s easy to get Harry all riled up but it makes his stomach clench every time he sees it.

He rocks forward, sets his teeth into the soft skin at Harry’s ribs just to hear him gasp and knocks his hand away, fingers tangling. He wants to keep them clenched in his own but Harry pulls away slowly, sinking his fingers into Niall’s hair again as Niall licks down his tummy, down past his bellybutton and through the trimmed trail on his abdomen. He grazes his teeth over his hip bone, listening to how Harry breathes, the hitches in it and the forced exhales instead of words. It’s fun, seeing how hard he can push him to see if he’ll speak so he sucks a mark there, on the tip of one of his pretty leaf tattoos just to make him hiss. 

Harry tugs impatiently on his ear, a silent vocabulary with his hands to show him how desperate he is and it makes Niall laugh, bright and loud against his skin because Harry would normally be jabbering on about how much Niall should be sucking his big dick by now, muttering under his breath a running commentary about how well Niall’s doing.

Harry whines instead, rocking his hips up to prove his point and Niall finally moves across the v of his hips, lips dragging across the skin. 

Harry’s already hard, tip of his dick slippery wet when Niall sucks him into his mouth. He licks at him for a moment, stretching his jaw to suck him down and get him nice and wet. He jacks his hand close to his mouth, lips bumping into fingers before he pulls off to lick down through them. He lips at underside of his dick, right down to the wiry hair that Harry’s not gotten round to trimming and feels him shudder against him, hips jerking. 

Harry’s not being quiet at all anymore, a series of low whines slipping through where he’s got his lips pressed against his wrist. He looks amazing when Niall looks up from his place between his knees, one of Harry’s hands stretched above his head so Niall can see the ink spread down the inside of his arm and the other pressed to his mouth, teeth sinking into the flesh there. 

Niall bites down on the soft skin at Harry’s thigh to match, just where the crease of his groin grows into his leg. Harry jerks up at that, hand slapping down onto the sofa and from the corner of his eye Niall can see the way his knuckles turn white as he curls them around a cushion. 

He follows it with a lick, tongue skating over the sweaty skin of his thigh. He pushes Harry’s leg up, hooking a hand under his hot knee, skin slippery there too. Harry groans, stretching out across the sofa. His heel catches on the seat, propping his leg up and open out of the way. His thighs look impressive like this, skin stretched across taut muscle that jumps when Niall puts his hands there, spreading him out so he can get a good look at his arse. 

He licks over him quickly with the flat of his tongue and Harry jerks again, working his arse up against Niall‘s mouth, eager for it. 

“Fuck,” he finally breaks, voice rough and low and Niall grins against his arse, lifting the hand on his thigh to smack down on his skin sharp. 

“Christ,” Harry growls again, rolling his hips back into Niall’s face. 

“Rule breaker,” Niall chastises but it’s a bit lost with the way he catches Harry’s arse hole clench. He dips back down, licking over it again, teasing slowly with his tongue before sucking his way up over his perineum, mouth wide and wet. They don’t do this very often but Niall knows from experience that Harry comes far too soon when he’s getting licked out so he works his tongue back upwards. 

“Niall,” he whines, voice going like gravel over the end of his name. 

“Sssh,” Niall hushes him, breathing out where Harry’s skin has gone shiny. He feels him shiver, the muscle in his thighs quivering where Niall’s hands run up them. He can reach the back of his knee like this, palm flat against the hot expanse of skin. 

He sucks on one of his balls idly, rolling his tongue over them as Harry groans and splutters up above him. His voice sounds worse and Niall feels a bit guilty, mouth pulling away with a pop. 

Harry’s leaking a stream of slick over his belly now, hands still up near his head so he doesn’t touch. His hair looks manic, frizzed up against the back of the sofa where he’s been rolling his head and it‘s dried. Harry’s eyes go straight to his when he opens them, sharp and dark and it makes Niall groan against him, lips pressed back at the base of his dick. 

“I’m go-” Harry cuts off, lips pressed tightly together as he breathes through his nose, nostrils flared. Niall grins at him, keeping his eye contact as he swallows him down again, letting him in to the back of his throat. The head of Harry’s dick rubs against the roof of his mouth and he’s still stretched out wide, knees bent back where Niall’s got a hand pressed under his thigh. 

“I wanna fuck you,” Niall whispers when he pulls off, says it right into the crease of Harry’s thighs as he rubs his thumb over the crown of his dick. He licks down behind his balls again as Harry groans loudly again, knee clamping down where Niall’s got his hand and then he’s coming, hot and thick over his belly.

“Jesus,” Niall complains, sitting back on his heels. He hasn’t even got his boxers off and Harry’s already came. “Harry.”

“Sorry.” Harry laughs to himself, voice slow and rough but he doesn’t look sorry at all. In fact his lips are turning into a slow smirk and his knees fall down lazily, hemming Niall between them again. 

“You’re breaking a rule,” Niall warns him as Harry pushes himself slowly up onto his elbows. He grins at Niall, leaning in close until Niall can feel the brush of his breath against his nose. He can feel the heat radiating off him, like the pulse of heat between his own legs and Niall doesn’t care anymore, all he cares about is getting rid of the rest of his clothes and getting off. 

“Rules are made to be broken,” Harry croaks, pressing in the last inch between them and licking into Niall’s mouth. 

Niall lets him, sucking on his tongue as Harry’s hands start to desperately claw him closer. He hoists him up onto his knees, one hand going down the back of his boxers to palm at his arse. He tips back, forcing Niall to sprawl over him, a knee on either side of his hips. 

The front of his boxers are damp, pre-come bleeding through the cotton and into the dip of Harry’s hip so he ruts there, shivering as Harry’s finger taps over his arsehole. 

“Want me to suck you off?” Harry asks and Niall knows he’s just going to run his mouth now that he thinks he’s gotten away with speaking again. Niall’s head spins though, can’t find the words to tell him off, not when Harry’s hand is coming up hold him steady under his arm pit. “Want me to lick you out too? Fuck you so hard you can’t walk?” 

He’s barely whispering, voice shot. Niall pants into his lips, licking out over them to taste where the skin around his mouth is salty. Harry hitches him up higher, dragging him up so Niall’s spread over waist now. He’s a mess, the come on his belly going sticky at the back of Niall’s thighs but he doesn’t care, he just cares about the way Harry’s hand feels on his arse cheek, prying him open and how the other one is sliding down to reach between them. 

“Could lick you out, nice and wet.” Harry pants, mouth red and glossy. “You could sit on my face, come on my tongue.”

“Fuck,” Niall breathes and he has to close his eyes because Harry’s fingers rub over his hole again just as he licks at his mouth, tongue wet. 

He wriggles out of his boxers, Harry’s hands finally moving to help him and they aren’t even over one ankle when Harry’s dragging him back up his chest. 

“This was supposed to be me making you feel better,” Niall puffs against his lips. He’s bent at an awkward angle, folded in on top of Harry but he doesn’t want to move away from him, wants to kiss him now he’s given in. Harry grins at him, palms running down over Niall’s sides before he finally wraps his fingers around Niall’s dick. He groans into Harry’s mouth, blood roaring in his ears as Harry wanks him back towards the brink. 

“You make me feel better,” Harry whispers, lips moving up over his jaw when Niall wriggles against him. He twists his hand and sucks at a spot just below Niall‘s ear. Niall can feel where he‘s breathing against him, chest rising quickly and the thud of his heart against where Niall‘s pressed in against him. “Always make me feel better.” Harry repeats quietly and Niall gasps against him, trying to catch his mouth again. 

Harry’s teeth drag against Niall’s chin as he pulls away, sits up properly across Harry’s chest because this way he can rock into his fist better. There’s a gap in the curtains behind the sofa and the glass is reflective against the dark sky outside so he catches a glimpse of himself, flushed and gasping as he fucks himself against Harry’s hip. 

“Wanna taste you, come on,” Harry croaks, mouth opening and eyes going dark again. Niall knows he has to be putting on that look for his benefit and it makes his head spin again, chest tight as he gasps in a breath and he gives in, curling over Harry as he comes, thick and pulsing up over Harry’s collarbones. He moans as Harry wanks him through it, rolling his thumb up the sensitive underside of his dick as he spurts half heartedly again over his belly. 

He sits there, panting for a moment before Harry shifts, pulling a face at the way he’s crookedly lying across the sofa. 

“Pretty nice bed over there you know,” Harry tells him, voice cracking again. Niall frowns and drops a hand from the back of the sofa to press at the corner of his mouth. 

“Back on voice rest,” he orders him, breath catching still slightly. Harry grins at him, pressing his lips together before kissing his thumb sweetly. Niall smiles too, chest easing at the way Harry mirrors it up at him. 

They gather themselves easily, Harry pulling Niall up against him as they walk towards the bed. It is huge and Niall wonders what they were doing on the sofa to begin with as he watches Harry wriggle into place in the middle of all the sheets. 

“Tea please,” he whispers, eyes falling shut and he looks smug all wrapped up in the sheet. Niall snorts, runs his thumb over the knobbly bit of his ankle that’s poked out of the sheets and goes to flick the kettle on.


End file.
